


Merry

by callboxkat



Series: Sanders Sides College AU [6]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hanukkah, The first part is anyway, virgil's birthday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-23 09:25:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17077679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callboxkat/pseuds/callboxkat
Summary: It's the end of the year, and a lot of special occasions are coming up.





	1. Virgil's Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! This won't be a super long one, probably only two or three parts unless I get inspired. I'm still figuring out the direction I want to take the next longer story, but have this in the meantime!

_December, 2017_

_..._

Patton was excited.

He absolutely loved throwing birthday parties, and it had been a while since he’d gotten to do so. He was especially eager because the last friend of his to have a birthday had been Logan, whose birthdays were never as fun as, say, Roman’s. It wasn’t that Patton preferred any of his friends over the others—of course he didn’t! Logan was one of Patton’s favorite people in the world, but he just wasn’t as receptive to Patton’s efforts as most of their other friends, which made him a little sad. He didn’t mean to be selfish about it, but it was always more fun when the person whose birthday it actually _was_ was as excited about it as Patton.

He thought back to Logan’s birthday, which had been on November 3rd, just over a month ago. Knowing their friend, Patton and the others had tried to keep the celebrations minimal: just the six friends together at Roman’s house for cake, small presents, and a few games of Mario Kart on Roman’s console. Logan had been flustered by the attention; and while he was clearly trying to hide that he was pleased, he kept trying to insist that the party’s motivation didn’t make any sense.

“Patton, this is all highly unnecessary—I am only a day older than I was yesterday. I have not suddenly aged by an entire year. Really, all of this celebration is rather frivolous.”

They had all still had a fun time, of course! And Patton wouldn’t change Logan for the world.

Even so, this birthday was particularly special: it would Virgil’s first birthday since they had met him; and, according to Logan, he was turning eighteen! He would officially become an adult! That fact required celebration.

Patton was slightly ashamed to admit that he had nearly missed the date. Had it not been for an offhand comment by Logan about the upcoming milestone this month, Patton probably wouldn’t have known until after the date had passed. Logan hadn’t known the exact date of Virgil’s birthday, but some quick internet searching had gotten Patton his answer. December 19th—a Tuesday, only two days before winter break officially began (the school ended that week on a Thursday for reasons unknown to him). Patton was immensely glad that his friend’s birthday didn’t fall during the break. That would make things so much harder to plan!

Even though that was happily not the case, Patton had some work to do. He wanted Virgil’s day to be perfect.

…

A week before his birthday, Virgil received a package in the mail. It was fairly large, and at first, Virgil had assumed that there had been a mix-up at the post office. When he found out that his father had sent it, though, things made more sense. Virgil’s dad always got him a birthday present, no matter how tight money was. It made sense that he would put in even more effort this year, since his work and geographic distance kept him from coming to visit for the occasion.

On the side of the box, written in black sharpie, was a note: “Do Not Open Until Dec 19!!” The message was surrounded by simple line drawings: a party hat, a cupcake with a candle stuck in it, a smiley face, and a gift box. Virgil’s dad was no artist, but it made the just-shy-of-eighteen-year-old smile.

He put the box under his bed, so as to not be overly tempted to open it early, but he made sure to shoot a thank-you text to his dad so that he would know the present had arrived.

His dad, of course, immediately called him. Virgil didn’t mind: he actually really enjoyed talking about their days. Virgil’s dad still called him most days, in fact, even though Virgil had been in college for several months now.

“Hi, Dad,” he said, picking up on the second ring.

“Hey, Virgil! You didn’t open your present yet, did you?”

“No, of course not,” he laughed. “I can read.”

…

Everything was planned and ready.

Virgil still seemed to think that none of his friends knew about his upcoming birthday, and judging by how he was acting, he planned to keep it that way.

His birthday was tomorrow, after all. If Virgil had wanted any sort of effort to be put in to celebrate by the others, he would have told them earlier. Or, at least, he would have done so if he wanted them to know that he wanted that.

 _What a weird sentence,_ Patton thought.

Regardless, while it had taken some planning, everything was ready for his friend’s birthday. All Patton needed to do was work on his own present.

He sure hoped Virgil liked it.

…

Today was Virgil’s birthday. He was officially eighteen. Finally, an adult.

He had class, obviously, since it was a Tuesday, but he had the day off of work. He planned to use the afternoon mostly to just relax, although he did have some plans. Talyn had invited him to see a movie at four, a couple of hours after their and Virgil’s last class. Apparently, they’d been planning to go with Joan, but their schedule had filled up, and Virgil was one of their only other friends who was a fan of the horror genre.

Until then, though, Virgil planned to go about his day like normal. He attended class and sat with his friends as usual; thankfully, none of them seemed to know that today was any different than any other. Virgil was glad. He hadn’t wanted his friends to feel any pressure to put something together for him.

After school, he decided to open his present.

Virgil dug the package out from under his bed and carried it out to the kitchen, relieved when he set it down on the counter. It was quite heavy, whatever it contained. He smiled at the note scribbled on its side, then grabbed a pair of scissors and got to work removing the packaging tape. When he got the box open, Virgil had intended to grab the birthday card first, but the gift immediately grabbed his attention.

It was a coffee-maker, brand new, fancier than he was accustomed to.

Virgil oh-so-gently lifted it out of the box, staring at the machine in almost reverent awe. He set it carefully on the table, like it was made of glass.

“Um, what is _that_?”

Virgil looked up to see his roommate, Remy, standing in the doorway between his bedroom and the main room.

“It’s a coffee-maker.”

“I can see that, but _gurl_ , since when can you afford one like that?” Remy made his way over, staring at the machine in shock.

“It’s a present from my dad,” Virgil admitted.

“You are 100 percent, absolutely letting me use it. This is non-negotiable. I’m putting it in the roommate agreement,” Remy said seriously. “Wait—a present? For what? Christmas isn’t until next week.”

“Um. It’s sort of my birthday?”

Remy lowered his sunglasses and regarded him over the rims, eyebrows raised in shock. “It’s your birthday? You cannot just, like, spring that on me! I don’t have anything for you!”

Virgil shrugged, embarrassed. “…I, uh, I didn’t expect you to care.”

“What! This is slander! Come on,” Remy said, grabbing Virgil’s arm and pulling him to his feet. “We’re going to get you some coffee. My present to you.”

“Uh… not to sound un—unappreciative or anything, but…” Virgil indicated the coffee maker he had literally just unwrapped.

“Coffee _grounds,_ dummy _, for the machine_.” Remy rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Now get your shoes on and let’s go!”

Virgil let himself be dragged along, weakly protesting that he had to be back by four, since he was going to see a movie with a friend.

“Yeah, yeah, you will be.” Remy grinned, opening the door to the apartment building and pulling his roommate towards his car. “Get in, Grinch, we’re going shopping.”

…

At four o’clock, Virgil arrived at the library, where Talyn was waiting to pick him up. They smiled, pushing off of the little half-wall lining the walkway, and approached. They had recently dyed their hair a bright green, presumably for the upcoming holiday; and their stylishly done makeup had accents of red and gold.

Virgil wanted to tell them that they looked nice, but for some reason giving people compliments, even in a completely platonic way, was intimidating. So, he settled for a half-smile and a “hello”.

“Ready to go?” Talyn asked cheerfully.

The two of them were going to see a new horror movie that had recently come out. Apparently, Talyn and Joan had been planning to go together, but something had come up in Joan’s schedule, and so Talyn had an extra ticket. They had asked Virgil to come in Joan’s place, without asking him to help pay, and they didn’t even know it was his birthday! Virgil hadn’t told anybody, except now for Remy.

They arrived at the theatre, and Talyn made use of a gift card they had to get each of them some popcorn. They claimed to have found it when cleaning their room about a week ago. Virgil wasn’t sure if he believed this, but he decided to play along. It was really nice of them to pay.

The movie itself was pretty good. Virgil probably wouldn’t see it again, but it wasn’t bad. He really liked hanging out with Talyn, honestly, more than watching the actual movie. Before it had started, during the previews, they told him a funny story about their mom’s naming choices with a cat she had adopted—apparently, her first choice had been “Cosmic Charlie”.

“I—I don’t know, that seems like a quality name to me,” Virgil had said, grinning shyly, when they told him this.

“Oh, of course. It’s so unique, you know? But we kinda helped her figure out that Odin _might_ be a better name.”

“Fewer syllables,” Virgil had agreed, nodding knowingly.

“Exactly.”

“No other reason for the name change, I’m sure.”

“Nope!”

Virgil smirked, pausing to eat some popcorn. “Does she just have the one cat?”

“No, my family has three. The other two are Boy Cat and Girl Cat.”

Virgil, who had just taken a sip from his drink, nearly spit it out. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah… but that wasn’t her. I named them when I was a kid.”

Virgil laughed. “That’s great.”

…

On the way home, Talyn checked the time on their dashboard, hummed, and then glanced over at Virgil. “Do you mind if we stop at Patton’s apartment on the way? I have to pick something up.”

Virgil shrugged. Why would he mind?

Talyn drove to Patton’s apartment building, which Virgil hadn’t actually been to before, and parked on the curb. “Why don’t you come with me? You know Patton: we’re probably going to end up chatting for a bit.”

Virgil nodded, shrugging again. He unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car. The two of them walked up to Patton’s building—a stark contrast to Virgil’s own, but most of his friends wouldn’t know that. Roman was still the only one of his closest friends who had visited his run-down apartment building, and Virgil had made him promise not to tell the others about it. He didn’t want them to judge him for it, or worse, to pity him.

Talyn and Virgil were about halfway between the street and the building when Virgil paused.

“Wait, isn’t that Logan’s car over there?” he asked, pointing towards the sleek black car parked a short distance down the block.

Talyn followed his gaze, paused for a second, then said, “Maybe? I’m not sure. It’s a pretty common car.”

Virgil frowned, but he let Talyn lead him up to the building. They pressed the button beside Patton’s apartment number, and he buzzed them in almost immediately.

Walking down the hallway towards Patton’s apartment, Virgil cleared his throat, and then spoke uncertainly, his voice wavering and soft. “This—this was all p-planned… wasn’t it?” He wasn’t sure what made him more anxious to say that, that Talyn might be upset that he figured it out, or that he might be wrong and was about to have a _very_ awkward conversation.

Talyn turned to grin at him, and then reached up and knocked on the door.

Relief flooded through Virgil, accompanied by confusion and, admittedly, a bit of excitement. The door swung open, and a chorus of voices greeted him.

“Happy birthday, Virgil!”

…

Virgil, Patton, Roman, Logan, Talyn, and Joan all sat around Patton’s kitchen table. Virgil, seated before a chocolate birthday cake, was sure his face was bright red as everyone else sang the happy birthday song.  The moment was made all the more embarrassing by two specific friends: Roman, of course, was being way too extra with his singing, adding riffs and changing octaves far more than should have been possible in such a short song; and Logan, meanwhile, sang in such a manner that, if he didn’t know any better, Virgil would have thought he was doing really awkward beat poetry.

The song finally ended, and Virgil leaned forward, blowing out the candles.

They enjoyed the cake after that, and then Patton insisted that they all watch Virgil open his presents.

“Wait—presents?” he repeated.

“Well, it _is_ a birthday party,” Roman pointed out. “Presents are generally included.”

“Yeah, but… you didn’t have to do that. You already….” He gestured around at, well, everything.

“We know we didn’t have to,” Patton assured him. “We wanted to.”

Virgil didn’t have much choice in the matter, so he opened the gifts. They were already bought, he told himself; and it would be rude to refuse. Plus, he was secretly very happy that his friends had done all of this for him.

From Logan, he got a gift card, which he claimed was intended for some audio books that he believed would be calming for him. He had gotten the idea from the large pair of headphones that Virgil carried around in his free time.

From Talyn and Joan, who had already set up the outing to the movies for him, he got a pack of Tarot cards. When he asked about it, Joan shrugged and claimed that they’d thought of him when they saw it at a shop.

Roman gave him a poster of Jack Skellington from _Nightmare before Christmas_ , already framed. He seemed incredibly pleased by Virgil’s shocked expression.

“Dude, how much did you spend on this?” he asked, wide-eyed.

“Don’t worry about it,” Roman said, grinning.

And from Patton, he got a little black, gray, white, and purple friendship bracelet, handmade, and a card that Patton had clearly drawn himself.

Virgil liked the gifts, but he absolutely loved his friends.


	2. Hanukkah

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Friendly reminder that this takes place in 2017, so Hanukkah ends on the 20th of December. I didn't move it for convenience, I promise. :)

When Virgil got home from his birthday party, he arrived to discover another surprise, although this one was less welcome.

It was very unwelcome, actually.

The moment the door opened, Virgil was hit by the strong, acrid smell of smoke.

“What the hell?!” he said, the door hitting the wall with a bang as Virgil hurried inside, tossing the packages in his arms onto the sofa. “Remy? What happened?”

“Oh, uhhhhh…. Hi, Virgil,” came Remy’s voice, much calmer than Virgil had expected. “Just chill, yeah? It’s fine.”

“It’s fine? There’s smoke everywhere!”

“Well, yeah, that’s true,” Remy admitted. Virgil realized that his roommate was in his room, and with his hoodie sleeve over his mouth, he made his way over there. “But there’s no fire! Promise!”

“Dude, what the  _hell_?” The words came out muffled, but he knew Remy understood.

“I may have knocked over some candles. But it’s chill. It’s good. They just burnt the heck out of some papers of mine. Maybe got the carpet; I’m not sure yet. But it’s fine!”

Virgil entered the room, where Remy was kneeling on the floor. He was scooping ashes and blackened scraps of paper into the trash. A blanket had already been stuffed in there, probably sacrificed to put out the fire. Nearby lay some partially-melted candles, and—

“Is that a menorah?” Virgil asked.

“Uh, yeah,” Remy confirmed. “Surprise, I’m Jewish.”

“Oh. Okay.” Virgil hesitated a second, then crossed the room and opened Remy’s window. The cool air rushed in, clearing some of the smoke, but he was glad for his jacket. “I’m going to go open the rest of the windows, and I’ll be right back,” he announced, already on his way out of the room.

…

“So, in other news, our smoke detectors are doing a sh*tty job,” Remy said, like this was just a casual, every-day conversation, and he hadn’t just nearly burned down their apartment. “I haven’t heard a peep out of them.”

Virgil, who was getting their little vacuum set up to get rid of the remaining mess, shook his head in exasperation. He had to switch out the bag—the vacuum was so small that they had to do so basically every time they used it.

“So…” Virgil swallowed awkwardly, “when were you going to tell me you were Jewish?”

“It didn’t seem important,” Remy claimed. “It’s not like I’m super religious.”

“You—you literally just set your carpet on fire with—with a menorah. There’s a yarmulke on your desk.”

“Plenty of non-observant Christians celebrate Christmas,” Remy pointed out.

“I mean… yeah, but isn’t Hanukkah a minor holiday? I thought the only reason it was big was out of spite for Christmas or something.”

Remy laughed. “That’s part of it, yeah. I like to see it as an excuse to eat latkes and jelly doughnuts. Plus it’s fun to make your whole family hate you when you absolutely demolish them at the dreidel game.”

“Isn’t… isn’t that a game of chance?”

“Only if you’re bad at it.” Remy winked at him over the rims of his sunglasses.

Virgil shook his head. “Get out of the way,” he said, flipping the switch on the vacuum. Remy sat back as Virgil cleared away the mess. Remy tried to take over, claiming it was just ridiculous to be doing this on his birthday, but Virgil waved him off with a joke that Remy would probably just set the vacuum on fire, too.

The carpet turned out to be only singed. Based on the state of the rest of the building, Virgil figured they could probably get away with claiming that the burn had already been there when they moved in. He and Remy cleaned it up as best as possible before going and sitting together in the main room.

“So, if Hanukkah is just an excuse to eat latkes and stuff, where are the latkes?”

“I’ve been busy,” Remy shrugged.

Virgil paused, glancing at the time on his phone and then back at Remy. “It’s… kinda late, but there’s time now.”

“….I don’t actually have the ingredients.” Remy brushed a stray strand of hair from his face. “Buuut, if you want, we can make some tomorrow. I can pick up some gelt, too, and teach you the dreidel game, if you’re down.”

“Gelt?”

“Chocolate coins.”

Virgil nodded thoughtfully.

“So, whatcha think?”

“Hell yeah. Let’s do it.”

…

Tonight was the last night of Hanukkah. Virgil and Remy stood before Remy’s plain silver menorah as Remy lit the candles, saying the blessings in what might sound like perfect Hebrew to an untrained ear, but which Remy knew to be slightly broken and very awkward.

At least he tried, right?

He, his girlfriend Aurora, and Virgil had spent the last hour or so making latkes, small potato pancakes, in the kitchen. Aurora—or Rory, as she liked to be called—had agreed to come to Remy’s apartment, something which she had not done the handful of other times that she had been invited. Remy knew that she was embarrassed that her boyfriend lived in a place like this. Regardless, Remy could tell that Virgil wasn’t overly enthused to have her there; but he hadn’t refused. 

To be honest, after Virgil’s positive reaction to the fact that he was Jewish, he’d wanted to share this holiday with Rory, as well. Perhaps she had picked up on that, and that was why she agreed to come.

She didn’t seem all that interested in the lighting of the menorah, though. She hung back in the kitchen, regarding the latkes they had made. She had agreed to help make them, although to Remy’s and Virgil’s chagrin, had spent most of the time complaining that she shouldn’t eat any because she didn’t want to get fat.

Remy finished lighting the menorah, and then went to grab his dreidel and the gelt he’d picked up that afternoon. Rory reached for him as he passed, pulling him in close and pressing a kiss to the side of his mouth. Remy grinned, then stuck his tongue out at Virgil, who was pretending to gag.

A few minutes later, they were all seated around the kitchen table. The dreidel sat in the middle, and each participant had a small pile of golden-foil-wrapped chocolate coins. Remy picked up the dreidel and started to explain the game.

“Okay, I’m writing this down so I know you aren’t cheating,” Virgil announced, getting up to grab a paper and pen.

“What, don’t trust me, doll?” Remy asked, although he had to admit that Virgil’s wariness was completely fair. He probably wouldn’t absorb what each symbol meant, so if Remy really wanted to, he could switch their meanings up during the game. Which he totally wouldn’t have done. Cross his heart.

…

Virgil spun the dreidel, grinning when it landed on the  _Gimel_. According to his little cheat sheet, that meant that the three gold coins currently in the pot were now his.

Rory, sitting between her boyfriend and Virgil, flipped her hair back and reached for the dreidel next, picking it up daintily with a manicured hand. Virgil watched. He wasn’t quite sure how he felt about her. Sure, this was the first time they had met in person, but it seemed to him that she and Remy were constantly fighting. Back in October, Remy had been having troubles with his insomnia, and she had been pretty insensitive about it. Virgil had brought his roommate to his own friends’ party because Rory had uninvited him from the one they had been planning to go to, even after Remy had explained the reason for his behavior at the time.

Each player put a coin back in the pot, and then Rory spun. It landed on  _Shin_ , so she let out a heavy sigh and slid one coin into the middle. She grumbled something under her breath.

“What’s that, babe?” Remy asked, setting down his applesauce-topped latke and reaching for the dreidel.

“I said this game is boring. We’re literally just sitting around a table, spinning a top. Like, we’re not even playing with real money.”

Virgil watched as Remy visibly faltered.

 **I like the game** , Virgil wanted to assure him.  **I’d just be sitting on my phone if I wasn’t here**. But he couldn’t do that, not right now. He didn’t know Remy’s girlfriend very well, which made getting any words out tougher to begin with, and now the atmosphere had changed. Things were less comfortable. More awkward. Tense.

“Oh,” Remy eventually said. He was still holding the dreidel. “Do you want to do something else, then?”

Rory sighed, leaning back and checking her phone. “No,” she sighed. “I’m just going to bounce. You can do what you want.”

“Wait, we don’t have to keep playing,” Remy said. “We can watch a movie, or—or something.”

Virgil wrung his hands in silence

Rory glanced between the two of them before huffing out a sigh. “Nah. I’m going home. Have fun with your kids’ game.” She got to her feet, grabbed her purse, and started out of the apartment.

“Gurl, you can’t just bail on us,” Remy tried once more.

“I’m tired.”

“If you say so.” Remy looked resigned. “Well, I’ll text you later.”

“Whatever.”

And she was gone, the door thudding shut behind her.

Virgil coughed. He reached forward and touched the dreidel in Remy’s hand, giving him a questioning look. His way of asking if his roommate wanted to keep going.

Remy sighed. “Look, gurl, if you’re bored too, we don’t have to do this. I get you were, like, trying to be nice and sh*t, but it’s good. You’re good. We made the latkes, we lit the candles, all that jazz. You don’t have to do any more.”

Virgil tapped insistently on the dreidel.

Remy sighed. “Okay, then, girl, but don’t say I didn’t give you an out.” He reached over to what had been Aurora’s pile of chocolate coins and split them in half, adding one portion to his own pile and the other to Virgil’s.

Remy spun the dreidel.

Fifteen minutes later, they were both laughing, eating way too many potato pancakes, and watching as Remy slowly accumulated all of the gelt. Virgil was sure he was cheating, but he couldn’t figure out how, and he didn’t care much, anyway.

Maybe Remy’s girlfriend wasn’t the most considerate, maybe she didn’t realize what this meant to her boyfriend; but even though Remy claimed it wasn’t very important to him, Virgil saw the spark in his eyes as he’d explained the meaning of lighting the candles, what each blessing translated to, and the rules of the dreidel game. Even the latkes, simply potato pancakes, had been quite fun to make and had a significance to the holiday on their own.

It might be true that Remy wasn’t very religious, but Virgil tried to put himself in his roommate’s place. Their college classes didn’t end for another two days, so Remy wasn’t able to go home and spend Hanukkah with his family. He had to stay here, in this crummy apartment, and light the candles by himself.This was probably the first time that Remy hadn’t spent Hanukkah with them, or with anyone else who was actually Jewish. Before last night, Remy had clearly believed that his roommate wouldn’t want to be bothered by his practices, and so he had hidden them away in his room. He had foregone the latkes, the jelly donuts, the gelt and the dreidel game, up until the eighth and final night.

Virgil wanted to show Remy that he was welcome here. Even if he wasn’t at home with his family, he was not alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm planning to have only one more part (this may change, never trust my predictions on how long something will be), but I can't promise it will be out before Christmas.  
> So, if it isn't, Merry Christmas to those who celebrate! Also, Happy Solstice (it was yesterday, so not a super late well-wishing), and Happy (belated) Hanukkah!


	3. Christmas at Patton's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan's family doesn't talk, but Patton is determined to not let him spend Christmas alone.

“Ready to go?” Patton asked brightly. He was standing on the doorstep of Logan’s apartment, wearing his favorite pale blue sweater and a hat with cat ears. Logan, standing before him, nodded.

“Certainly. Would you mind helping me carry out my bags?” he asked as he pulled on his own plain black coat.

“Not at all!”

Patton and Logan carried out the luggage together, loading it into Patton’s car.  This would be the second Christmas that Logan spent with his friend. When Patton had found out the year before that Logan wasn’t going to spend the holiday with his own family, he had invited him on the spot. Logan had been reluctant, but after Patton called his mom and made sure she was okay with it, he had relented.

Logan and his parents didn’t talk. He hadn’t even seen them since he’d left home at eighteen, and he had no plans to see them any time soon.

Patton’s family was much closer-knit. They actually liked being around each other, and they didn’t only get together for holidays out of a sense of obligation. The love they had for each other was clear to see. Logan couldn’t relate.

At first, partially due to his unfamiliarity with most of the family, he had felt rather out of place. Patton’s parents clearly hadn’t known how to act around him, especially since his presence wasn’t anticipated. They had also seemed a little off-put: Logan knew his mannerisms were a little odd, but he couldn’t help it. That was just how he was. Patton’s parents had soon figured this out, though, and things had gone well from there on. And Patton had been so overjoyed to have him there.

Logan had never really properly celebrated Christmas before, at least not in the way that many other families did. In the few days leading up to that Christmas, he and Patton’s family had partaken in a number of activities that Logan previously had thought only happened in sappy movies. They made Christmas cookies, put ornaments on the tree, watched Christmas movies, and even made a snowman in the yard. Logan remembered how Patton had started giggling uncontrollably when he put a business-like necktie on one of the gingerbread men they had decorated.

Logan had paused, the forgotten icing pipet still held aloft, and looked at his friend. “Did I do something incorrectly?”

“No—no no no,” Patton had giggled. “He’s _perfect_.”

“Oh,” he had said with a relieved smile.

“He looks just about ready to go to the gingerbread prom,” Patton’s mother had joked. “Why don’t you give him a suit jacket to go with the tie?”

Logan smiled at the memory, hefting his heavier suitcase into the car beside the lighter one that Patton had already deposited there. He removed the backpack from around his shoulders and added that as well. Even with Patton’s suitcases and the collection of stuffed animals his friend was bringing home, there was plenty of room remaining.

“I have one more thing to fetch if that is unobjectionable to you.”

“Sure, buddy,” Patton said. “I’ll start the car. Go ahead and make sure you’ve got everything while you’re inside.”

“Thank you.” Logan turned on his heel and walked back inside. He grabbed his phone off the desk, did a once over of the entire apartment, then grabbed a large box and headed back outside.

Patton turned around in his seat as he loaded it in the back of the car, trying to get a look. “Oh, what’s that?”

“I… um…” Logan rubbed the back of his neck, looking into the open box. “I can’t help but feel indebted for your and your family’s kindness, both this holiday season and the last. So I purchased a few offerings to indicate my gratitude for that, as well as for your friendship.”

“You got us Christmas presents?!” Logan could hear the joy and surprise in Patton’s voice.

“Yes,” he confirmed, before shutting the trunk and joining Patton in the front seat, bringing a couple of books with him. It was nearly an eight-hour drive to Patton’s parents’ house, so he’d brought several novels in addition to his textbooks.

“That’s so sweet of you!” Patton beamed.

 They were on the road. It was three-thirty in the afternoon, but by Logan’s calculations, it would likely be midnight before they arrived, accounting for breaks. Logan read for a while, bearing with Patton’s chattering at the same time. He had purposefully chosen books that he had read before for this precise reason. Occasionally he would chime in, nod, do something to indicate that he was paying attention. After a while, he got absorbed in his book, and Patton had turned on the radio, probably well aware that it wouldn’t disturb Logan when he was really immersed.

…

“Hey, Logan? Lo?”

Logan opened his eyes and blinked slowly. It had gotten too dark to read pretty early in the drive, so he’d put away the books. He hadn’t meant to actually fall asleep, though.

“Hm? Yes, I’m awake,” he responded, rubbing at his eye and sitting up straighter.

“Did you want to get dinner soon?”

Logan turned on his phone, the light illuminating the car. It was nearly seven at night. A decent hour to dine, as well as a fair time to switch drivers.

“Sure. Is there an exit coming up?”

“Yep. I was thinking we could just grab something and get back on the road.”

“That sounds acceptable,” he agreed, turning the phone off again. He rested his chin on his hand, looking out the window as they continued down the road.

They arrived at the gas station about ten minutes later. Patton agreed to refill the car while Logan picked out food. Patton had said he didn’t mind what Logan got him so long as itd took his vegetarianism into account, and of course, included a cookie.

Logan returned to the car with the bag of their food. Patton was just finishing up paying for the gasoline.

“Hi!” he chirped when he saw Logan.

“Hello,” he replied. “I got you a ‘veggie hummus wrap’—no carrots—and a double-chocolate-chip cookie.”

“That’s perfect. Thank you.”

“Would you care to switch drivers? I can take over for the time being. I really only need you to navigate for the final hour or so.”

“If you don’t mind, sure,” Patton agreed.

The rest of the drive was rather uneventful. Patton dozed for most of the time Logan was at the wheel, so to him the time must have passed rather quickly. During the final hour, Patton insisted that they put on a radio station playing somewhat obnoxious Christmas music. It didn’t take long before Patton roped him into singing along, despite his perhaps slightly fallacious claims that he ‘did not like to sing’.

They pulled into the driveway of Patton’s house at 11:57 precisely. Patton assured Logan that they could unpack the car after they greeted his parents, who were bound to still be awake despite the hour.

Logan hovered behind his friend on the doorstep as he knocked on the door, right in the middle of the thick, green-and-red wreath that hung there. The entryway light flicked on, and then the door swung open. The smell of peppermint and the excited barking of Patton’s beloved golden retriever greeted them. Logan watched the cheerful reunion between Patton and his parents while the dog did her best to jump in the middle. He smiled at the sight, but then he was pulled into an unexpected hug.

Patton’s mom was hugging him.

Logan wasn’t sure what to do, so he just stood there until she let go. She didn’t seem offended by his lack of reciprocity, just smiling at him through a curtain of ginger curls.

“We’re so glad to have you both here for Christmas,” she said. “I’ll help you get your things inside.”

They had been delighted when they saw his box of gifts, and Patton’s father had admitted that they got him a present, too, having assumed that he would be joining them.

Twenty minutes and a quick cup of hot chocolate later, Logan was lying on the Foster family’s couch, looking up at the ceiling. The Christmas lights, which he had insisted could remain on, cast a kaleidoscope of colors above him.

Logan wasn’t home, this was still true. He didn’t really have a home, outside of his apartment at school. He hadn’t seen his parents in years. But he was here, with Patton, and he wouldn’t rather spend the holidays anywhere else.

Logan pulled the heavy fleece blanket up to his shoulders, turning onto his side. He fell asleep with a smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas! This is only an hour late, so I'm calling it a win.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you like it, consider leaving some kudos and feedback. It means a lot to me.  
> You can also come yell at me at @callboxkat on tumblr.


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